Boggart
by journey1899
Summary: What happens between Lupin and Sirius just after Prisoner of Azkaban. Spoilery, if you haven't read the book or seen the film.


Remus Lupin had plenty to think about.

He sat back in his chair and stared out the window. This place was well-lit and clean; he liked it here. It was cheerful, even. Something to bring him out of his ongoing mode of introspection. Taking a drink of lemonade, he watched the sun set, and then put the glass back down. It would be a safe night for him, and for that he was grateful. He tried to gather up enough gumption to turn on some music, but he was too involved with the recent events at Hogwarts.

He understood young Harry more than his former student could, or, rather, would imagine. He'd lost James, Lily, Peter, and Sirius. Being what he was, ostracized from most of the world for his devastating alter ego, he had still managed to meet four people who could see past his Moony hours and embrace him for who he was.

Or, rather, three people.

It was hard to wrap his head around Wormtail. He couldn't figure the bloody bastard out. Had the rat always held malignancy in his heart towards the rest of the Mauraders? No one had pegged him to be so weak; he was a Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake.

Everything he'd ever felt against Sirius had transferred instantly to Peter. The disbelief, the pain and the hatred was Peter's alone to bear. Only Peter couldn't feel it. He was too far gone. Remus knew this. The moment Peter's guilt had been confirmed, and Sirius' innocence brought to light, the world seemed to make more sense to Remus. He wasn't sure why. He had embraced Sirius immediately, and would be damned if he backed down from his new position now.

The thing he'd been trying hard to put from his mind wriggled its way back into his thoughts. There was something he'd have to deal with, and it was something huge. Something frightful. Good thing there were no boggarts around. He might be able to defeat this new fear.

For the past decade-plus, Remus had felt more pain than hatred towards Sirius. Pain was, in many ways, easier for him to feel than hatred. And in the same sense, hatred was easier to feel than this new emotion. This one, it was almost unbearable. He had no idea how to handle it.

If a boggart were to pop out at him now, it would turn into Sirius Black.

Believing Sirius capable of going dark, becoming a Death Eater, or ever so much as laying a malicious hand on any of his friends should have been impossible for Remus. It should've been impossible for Dumbledore or any of the people to whom Sirius had held any sort of allegiance. Remus, of all people, the only "surviving" Maurader, should've known.

He should have campaigned to Dumbledore, and to Fudge, and to everyone within the Ministry. He should have fought for Sirius' freedom. Why hadn't he?

Because the evidence had been stacked against Sirius.

And now, Remus Lupin knew, that wasn't good enough. It should not have been good enough for him.

He pushed up out of his chair and made his way to the back door of the small, vale cottage and looked over the green summer pastures and out to the woods beyond. He saw these things, and the golden sun its evening bow, but they offered him little comfort. Remus knew that he would not get that comfort until he had the opportunity to speak with Sirius.

His body perked a moment before the knock came at the front door. Latent wolf sense, possibly. Lupin turned and crossed the small living room, wand ever ready, and opened the door.

"Ah, Remus," Albus Dumbledore said in his easy way, bowing his head slightly in warm greeting. "I was wondering if I could ask a favor of you."

Remus smiled amiably, opening the door further for the esteemed wizard. "Of course."

Dumbledore didn't enter immediately, and instead turned, whistled, and waited. A shaggy black dog came loping across the road from the woods, and broke into a trot as he approached the small porch. Wagging his tail, the dog looked from Lupin to Dumbledore, and sat down expectantly, ears perked.

"I hope pets are allowed within the terms of your house-to-lent agreement," Dumbledore chuckled.

Remus inclined his head and looked down at Sirius, then laughed. "They're allowed, but this one looks a bit too untidy for my taste." Feigning exasperation, he waved them both in. The fear he'd felt minutes before washed over him again, but he forced it away for now.

Within an hour, Dumbledore had left the two old friends to themselves, and Remus knew he had to put it all out on the table. If he didn't do it now, it would only get harder. It was dark now, and the firelight flickered off the pallor and lines of Sirius' Azkaban-tamed face. Remus passed him a bottle of German beer - the good stuff, the only stuff Mauraders would drink - and sat back into his chair. "Sirius," he started hesitantly, then fumbled for his words. He closed his eyes and took a breath. "I need to apologize, but it will never be enough."


End file.
